At a recent conference, I heard Mike Potter, the former Government Chief Digital Officer, say that economists used to plan for one major economic shock per decade. But he set out that since 2010, we’ve had three – the “ABC”: austerity, Brexit and Covid.
While we still don’t know everything about what causes mental ill health, we do know it’s shaped by a mix of biological, psychological, and social factors – not by one single cause. Our environment and life experiences play a huge role. These are the social determinants of mental health, and we know that people living in deprivation, poor housing, and poor physical health are at greater risk. So, when the economy falters, the nation’s mental health suffers too.
After the 2008 financial crisis, suicide rates rose across Europe and North America – a stark reminder that economic policy and mental health are deeply connected.
Right now, we seem to be bumbling through a public debate about the “D” in the ABC: rising demand. Instead of recognising that this rise is a natural result of those economic shocks, too many commentators frame it as a crisis of personal resilience. But blaming people for not coping well enough ignores the structural pressures driving distress in the first place. At Mental Health UK, our support services, like our Mental Health and Money Advice service, have seen growing demand that mirrors these wider social and economic shocks. People aren’t struggling because they’ve become less resilient; they’re navigating tougher conditions – and too often, without enough support.
The logical response is surely twofold: first, to make sure people can access timely mental health care and support; and second, to address the underlying causes such as insecure housing, financial stress, and unstable work.
But if that wasn’t already enough to deal with, there’s now an “E” in the mix: emerging technology. Technology offers both promise and risk for our mental health. The question is not just how we use it, but how we protect and promote mental health and wellbeing in the process.
There’s a story (possibly apocryphal) that when Zhou Enlai, the Chinese Premier under Mao, was asked in the 1970s about the impact of the French Revolution, he replied, “It’s too early to tell.” Historians now believe he was actually referring to the student protests in France in 1968 rather than the revolution of 1789, but why let that spoil a good story when it so neatly makes its point?
Britain led the Industrial Revolution between the mid-18th and mid-19th centuries, a transformation that completely changed how people lived and worked. Around the same time, what were known as asylums expanded, often locking away those experiencing mental distress from the rest of society. Like all major social changes, the Industrial Revolution had both upsides and downsides, some of which weren’t clear until much later. In fact, a 2017 study from the University of Cambridge found that it left a “damaging psychological imprint” that still affects communities today.
Just as industrialisation reshaped our physical environment, today’s technological revolution is reshaping our psychological one.
I’m old enough to remember being thrilled by Pong and waiting half an hour for a game to load on my Commodore 64. I remember when Netflix sent DVDs through the post and how futuristic that felt compared to VHS tapes. And I remember refreshing Teletext to see the West Ham score. Now I can check it anywhere, anytime on my phone, and even watch them lose live.
We’ve come a long way, but the pace of technological change is dizzying. OpenAI now lets people create custom GPTs, and hundreds, maybe thousands, have already been built to offer mental health support. It’s happening fast, with very little regulation or understanding of what it might mean for people’s mental health and wellbeing.
Already, we’re seeing AI-driven mental health tools used by thousands of people – some helpful, some untested, and some potentially harmful. Without evidence or safeguards, it’s impossible to know which is which.
A sensible step would be to ensure that AI chatbots designed for mental health support are programmed to signpost users to appropriate services from trusted sources, such as local NHS services or recognised mental health charities, whenever someone seeks help or expresses distress.
The American sociobiologist Edward O. Wilson once summed it up perfectly:
“The real problem of humanity is the following: we have Palaeolithic emotions, medieval institutions, and godlike technology.”
Technology itself isn’t good or bad; it’s what we do with it that counts. But right now, our ability to keep up feels… patchy. Social media is a great example: it can connect people, give them a voice and a sense of community. But it can also be toxic – a space for bullying, comparison, and abuse.
Several prominent tech entrepreneurs are known for limiting or delaying their own children’s access to social media and digital devices. Steve Jobs, for example, said his children didn’t use iPads; Bill Gates reportedly banned mobile phones until his children were 14; and Evan Spiegel, Snapchat’s CEO, has said his children don’t use social media at all. Other leaders, such as Google’s Sundar Pichai, have also spoken about setting strict boundaries around technology use at home. Their reasoning often centres on concerns about wellbeing, attention, and the addictive nature of digital platforms – highlighting a striking contrast between those who create technology and how they choose to let their families engage with it.
If a new medication came along, it would face years of testing and scrutiny before being released to the public. Yet new technologies can reach millions overnight, often without anyone fully understanding their side effects. Governments and regulators can barely keep pace. And we’re only beginning to grasp how this “godlike” technology affects our emotions, relationships, and sense of self.
This isn’t a call for a luddite future. Far from it. Technology and innovation hold enormous potential to make our lives better, including improving mental health. But only if we choose to shape them consciously, not let them shape us.
The Industrial Revolution left its mark for centuries. This time, we have the insight and the evidence to make sure the Technological Revolution leaves a healthier one.
And finally, for transparency, this blog was written by James Harris (Director of Communications and Campaigns), with the support of ChatGPT. Hopefully, proof that when humans and technology work together, good things can happen.
Mental Health UK are developing a set of key principles to help guide the responsible use of technology in improving mental health and wellbeing. Watch this space for more information.
